The world had once been Anna’s stage-Paris, London, Milan. Opera fans flocked to hear her Orfeo. Now Anna’s world was this small room in a nursing home.
Still, the last thing Anna needed was pity so Sophie hardened her voice. “Bullshit.”
Anna’s eyes flew open. “Sophie!”
“Like you haven’t said that word a hundred times.” A day, she added to herself.
Twin spots of color darkened Anna’s pale cheeks. “Still,” she grumbled, then dropped her eyes back to the plate. “Sophie, this food is vile. It’s worse than usual.” She lifted her left brow, the only one she could lift anymore. “Try it yourself.”
Sophie did, then grimaced. “You’re right. Wait here.” She went to the door and saw one of the nurses at the station. “Nurse Marco? Did you get a new dietitian?”
The nurse looked up from her clipboard, her expression guarded. “Yes. Why?”
Most of the nursing home staff were wonderful. Nurse Marco, however, was a grouch. To say that she and Anna did not get along was putting it mildly, so Sophie tried to ensure her visits coincided with Marco’s shifts. Just to keep things civilized. “Because this food tastes really bad. Could you possibly get Anna something else?”
Marco pursed her lips. “She’s on a controlled diet, Dr. Johannsen.”
“Which she will follow, I promise.” Sophie smiled as engagingly as she could. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really bad. Please?”
Marco’s sigh was long-suffering. “Very well. It will be a half hour or so.”
Sophie came back to sit at Anna’s bedside. “Marco will bring you a new dinner.”
“She’s mean,” Anna murmured, closing her eyes.
Sophie frowned. Her grandmother said things like that increasingly often these days and Sophie was never completely sure what she should believe. Likely it was petulance brought on by the frustration of being helpless and in pain, but she always worried there could be something more.
Sophie seemed worried most of the time these days-about Anna, about bills, about the career she hoped she could someday reclaim. And today she’d added a new worry-what Vito Ciccotelli would think about her once he met Alan Brewster.
She touched her lips with her fingertips and let herself remember that kiss. Her heart started pounding all over again. She’d wanted more, so much more. And for just a moment, she’d let herself hope that just this once, she could have it.
What a fool you are. She’d finally met a really nice man who might have been everything she wanted-and she’d sent him to the one man who was most likely to paint her as a cheap sex-crazed slut with no moral compass. Maybe he won’t believe Alan. Hah. Men always believed Alan, because on some level they wanted to believe she was cheap, that she’d fall into bed with anyone who asked.
Nine graves, Sophie. You did the right thing. But why did the right thing always suck so much? With a sigh she settled in her chair and watched Anna sleep.
Monday, January 15, 6:50
P.M.
“So how did your prep with the DA go?” Vito asked as he got into Nick’s sedan. They’d met outside the factory where Warren Keyes’s fiancée Sherry worked.
“Okay.” Nick tossed him a sub. “Lopez thinks she can nail the drug dealer.”
“Then there’ll be some justice,” Vito said, unwrapping the sandwich. The aroma of meatballs filled the car. “Some justice is a hell of a lot better than none.”
Nick’s shrug said he didn’t agree, but wouldn’t argue. “What’d I miss?”
“I went through the missing-persons printouts. Highlighted anyone vaguely matching our vics. Got approval from Liz to bring in an artist to give us something to show.”
Nick whistled. “She gave you money?”
“Hell, no. I got Tino.”
Nick looked impressed. “Good thinking.”
“He should be meeting Katherine at the morgue any time now. Then I stopped by the hospital to see Molly. She’s doing better.”
“You have been busy. They figure out where Molly got the mercury?”
“Yeah. The state’s environmental people found their gas meter had been broken.”
“They still make meters with mercury?”
“No, but Dino’s house is old and the meter’s the old style. Pop said they told him the utility companies have been replacing them, but they hadn’t gotten to Dino’s neighborhood yet. They found mercury in the mud under the meter.”
“But meters don’t just break.”
“They think it was hit by a ball or a rock or something. Pop asked the boys, but none of them knew anything about it. Molly said last Friday the dog came in covered in mud. She bathed him and that’s how she came into contact with the mercury. The vet tested the dog and found low levels, but not enough to hurt him. But after she bathed the dog, Molly vacuumed, which sent mercury through the house. They’ve got to replace all the carpet before they can live there again, so I’ll have company for quite a while.”
“Well, I’m glad she’s all right. That’s the important thing.”
Vito drew Sophie’s list from his pocket. “And…” He sighed. “I went to see Sophie.”
“You really were busy.” He scanned the sheet. “Sellers of medieval novelties, chain mail…” He looked up, a light in his eyes. “The circular bruises on the guy missing half his head. He could have been wearing chain mail.”
Vito nodded. “You’re right. The bruises would be just about that size. Good job.”
“Professor in France,” Nick continued. “Long-shot Lombard, whereabouts unknown. And Alan Brewster. Why is his name handwritten in?”
“She gave me that one at the last minute. I think there’s some bad history there.”
Nick glanced up briefly. “No pun intended.”
Vito rolled his eyes. “No. I considered phoning him at home, but thought we might want to visit him in person.”
Nick considered it. “This guy hurt Sophie, huh?”
“Seems like it. She didn’t want me to mention her name.”
“What made her change her mind?”
“I told her the truth. Some of it anyway,” he clarified when Nick’s brow went up. He thought about the way she’d so carefully pocketed the rose, and remembered the kiss, which still filled his mind. “She believed me. Then she gave me the list and added Brewster’s name.”
“You’re gonna go tomorrow?”
Vito nodded. “I told Tino to focus on the woman with the folded hands. I want to take whatever he comes up with to the actors that hang around the theaters, but they won’t start gathering until late afternoon. I’ll have time to visit Brewster in the morning. He may be able to point us in the right direction. If we can find where they’re getting the devices, we can follow the money trail.”
“Well, when we’re done here I’ll go back to the office and run a list of Kyle Lombards. I might as well try to track him down tomorrow while I’m waiting to testify.” Nick straightened abruptly. “There she is. Sherry Devlin.” He pointed to a young woman getting out of a rusted Chevette. “She looks beat. I wonder where she’s been.”
Vito took Sophie’s list back, folded and pocketed it. “Let’s go find out,” he said and the two of them got out of Nick’s car and approached Sherry Devlin. “Miss Devlin?”
She spun to face them, her face freezing in fear.
“Relax,” Vito said. “We’re detectives, Philly PD. We’re not going to hurt you.”
She looked from Vito to Nick, her eyes still a little wild. “Is this about Warren?”
“Where have you been all day, Miss Devlin?” Nick asked, in lieu of an answer.
Sherry’s chin lifted. “In New York. I thought maybe Warren had gone up there to look for work. I figured if the police wouldn’t help me look, I’d search for him myself.”